At Church

By Carrie May

We went to church, my two fair girls,
Their father and myself,
My Kittie then at “half-past seven,”
A laughing, bright-eyed elf,
And little Frank, our youngest one,
Then only “half-past three,”
But wise beyond her years, and filled
With calm, sweet dignity.
I told the tale when we reached home
That Kittie – to be brief –
Had dropped her book and I my fan
And Frank her handkerchief.
“I know what father dropped,” said Frank,
And to her eyes did leap
A look of humor, as she said,
“Why, father dropped asleep!”

(1923)